Black Mountain
by williewildcat
Summary: US Marshal Raylan Givens reaches out to his old flame Brooklyn for help despite Dean's reservations about the man. As they battle the unseen evil that has gripped the land, Dean must confront his own feelings for Brooklyn or lose her to the marshal.
1. Paths Cross

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

_**A/N**_: After watching "Fire in the Hole" episode of Justified I got this zany idea!!! It's already my new fav show! This will flashback between the present and three years previous to show the established relationship between Brooklyn and Raylan.

* * *

"Okay Brook we're going where?" Dean looked over at Brooklyn.

"Harlan County, Kentucky," she calmly responded. "Someone needs help, an old friend of mine."

"This friend gotta name?" Dean looked at her suspiciously.

"Raylan Givens," Brooklyn wasn't afraid to say the man's name. She watched the hunter wince at his name. Dean wasn't exactly spilling his heart out to her. She had been on the road with the Winchesters for almost a year and Dean wasn't making any attempt to indicate he wanted anything more with her. Sure they had fucked around and made a great team in hunting, but that was as far as it went. To be honest, Brooklyn felt dejected as she had made her feelings known on more than a couple of occasions. Sam watched as Dean shifted in his seat at the mention of another man, let alone one she knew. He had told Dean several times to tell Brooklyn how he felt but his brother didn't want to listen.

"So Brook, how do you know this guy?" Sam asked. Brooklyn turned around and looked at Sam.

"Before I met you guys, I hunted alone and I wound up in Harlan County as there was a string of vanishings and the police were baffled."

* * *

_Three years earlier…._

Brooklyn pulled into the front of the diner and killed the engine on her truck. She wasn't sure why she was here but there were the mysterious string of vanishings and no one could figure out why.

"Probably a damn werewolf," she huffed and finally got out.

The diner wasn't very busy when she entered and spied a corner booth. The hunter slipped in and faced the dining area before her. She studied the patrons, most were coal miners or laborers with a few others peppered in. The waitress appeared and Brooklyn ordered a coffee and light breakfast then left her alone once again. She didn't see anything unusual and picked up the paper nearby. The big story was the vanishings that were occurring and she read the article below the blaring headline. Even the coffee being placed in front of her didn't disturb the hunter as she finished up the last few sentences. The thoughtful stare took hold as she noticed what witnesses and family members had told authorities.

It wasn't a werewolf as bodies would be found and ripped to shreds. The red flag for Brooklyn was the hearts were still inside the bodies. No, this was something entirely different. She had to get out to the woods.

Armed with a shotgun and Molotov cocktail, Brooklyn hiked along the trail scanning for signs that would confirm her suspicions. The birds continued to chirp which was a comfort for the hunter. She kept a steady pace along the well worn trail, keeping a sharp ear to the air. It was only when the sound of deafening silence greeted her ears she would need to worry.

Brooklyn reached the clearing and looked at the rocks and trees surrounding the area. This was the spot where the first two had gone missing. The police had come and gone so she could wander freely and scout around. Brooklyn looked at the trees first and spotted the five scratches etched deeply in the wood and bark.

"This isn't good," she said to herself. Still she kept looking and spotted the rock ahead. She hurried over and ripped away the brush and leaves. The images carved in stone showed all Brooklyn needed to see.

"Shit," she jumped to her feet and spun around bumping into the man behind her. He was something from the Old West. Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, Stetson hat but it was the suit jacket, button up shirt and tie that was modern. Something flashed from the corner of her eye and spied the US Marshal's badge.

_Crap….._

"Can I ask what you're doing here?" He spoke with a soft Southern accent. His eyes were dark but held even with her grey ones.

"I was taking a hike," Brooklyn lied.

"Well these woods aren't safe," he spoke again. "We've had several people go missing around here."

"Oh, I didn't know," she feigned innocence but the man wasn't buying it. He tilted his head and continued to hold a disbelieving stare.

"I saw your truck at the diner and then over at several of the missing people's homes. I don't think you're telling me the truth. You mind telling me who you are? You do know your name right?"

Brooklyn had been routed by a damn throwback from the Old West! Sighing she sat down on a fallen log and decided to tell the truth or else she would be sitting in a cell so fast it would make her head spin.

"You're right, I'm not a tourist," she confessed. But before she could say anything further she stopped. She couldn't hear the birds or even the crickets. The sound of silence bordered on deafening.

"We need to go now," Brooklyn sat up and grabbed her bag. The man blocked her path but Brooklyn was determined to get around him.

"Look Marshal, if we don't leave now, we're both gonna be dead."

His face darkened at her words but Brooklyn was already reaching for the cocktail and prepared to light it up. The lawman grabbed for it but Brooklyn was too fast and darted out of the way. The growling grew loud until it was a few feet away from them. The vile odor of rotting flesh filled the air making Brooklyn nearly gag.

"What was that?" He asked.

"Our death if you don't let me throw this," she snapped then darted her eyes around the perimeter.

"Come on out you bastard," she shouted taunting the thing that stalked them. The lawman felt the gun on his hip ready to use if needed. He didn't use it unless he intended to kill someone and this may be one of those times.

"What is that?" He asked Brooklyn.

"A Wendigo," she answered. "If we get out of this alive I'll be more than happy to tell you."

"I think that would be an excellent idea," the lawman answered and inched closer to Brooklyn. The rustle of brush and trees alerted them to the Wendigo's presence as it remained close to its prey. Brooklyn knew these creatures well and taken out a few in her time. But this one was highly intelligent, more so than the other Wendigos she had encountered. Add the cunning speed and deadly claws and the two humans were outmatched and screwed.

"Start walking very slowly down the trail and towards my truck," Brooklyn whispered. The lawman listened and step by step they eased back on the trail and towards the Avalanche. She knew it continued to watch them as they edged closer towards the parking lot. The back of her truck came into view. The lawman kept his eyes trained ahead watching the foliage rustle though no wind blew.

"Okay now on the count of three make a break for it," Brooklyn said as she reached in her pocket and pulled the lighter out. The lawman didn't object when she lit the cloth and hurled it at the side of the trail.

"Three!" They took off in a dead sprint hoping the fire would hinder the creature. Brooklyn heard it chasing them through the trees and bushes. It routed the pair into a small clearing cornering them.

"So what now?" The lawman had his hand on his gun.

"I'm thinking," she snapped. Brooklyn dropped her bag and searched through the weapons she had packed and found nothing to help.

"Damn it," she muttered and looked around spying the branch by her foot. Quickly she started drawing Anasazi symbols on the ground until they formed a circle around them.

"What are those?"

"Anasazi protection symbols," Brooklyn answered. "It can't come after us."

The Wendigo circled around them letting the humans know it was still there. The symbols kept it at bay and it knew it was dealing with a worthy foe. Brooklyn sat on the ground as she knew neither she nor the lawman would be going anywhere fast.

"So now what do we do?"

"We wait," she sighed.

"In case you haven't noticed the sun's starting to set and it's gonna be dark soon," the lawman calmly noted.

"I'm well aware of that," Brooklyn looked up at the marshal. This one wasn't exactly beating around the bush with his choice of words. She had a bad feeling he wasn't going to be letting her out of his sight anytime soon. The Wendigo continued watching them until something caught its attention. Off in the distance the sound of laughter filled the air and it sensed easier prey to catch. Brooklyn's head shot up as the Wendigo raced off away from them.

"It's gone," she said leaping to her feet and grabbing her bag. Brooklyn took off but the lawman was right on her heels as they reached the parking lot and the hunter leapt in her truck. To her surprise the lawman slid in the passenger seat and merely looked at her. His rich brown eyes trying to read what her grey pools hid but she was good at keeping her feelings at arm's length. Nate's death had forced her to do so.

"What?" She asked wondering if he was going to arrest her or thank her.

"You said you would tell me what the thing was," the lawman reminded her in a matter of fact tone. Brooklyn absently nodded and started her truck anxious to get away from the woods. As she backed out, Brooklyn noticed the dark blue Towncar parked in the opposite end.

"So you're leaving your car?" The lawman kept silent and Brooklyn merely huffed and drove back to the hotel. She didn't notice the small smile creeping up on his lips as they drove in a tense silence.

"So you wanna know what a Wendigo is?" Brooklyn dropped the book on the table and opened its worn dog-eared pages. She flipped through it in an expert manner until she found what she was looking for. The lawman walked over as she started reading from the book.

"A Wendigo is a Native American legend in which an evil or malevolent cannibalistic being that humans can either be possessed by or turned into. If a human consumes human flesh he or she would become the dreaded creature and its appetite for flesh would never cease. The need to feed is so overpowering that the number of victims can become staggering. While descriptions vary from tribe to tribe, the Wendigo has the universal appearance of gaunt skin, claws where fingers once existed, tattered and ripped flesh where lips once stood and the overpowering odor of decay."

"How do you kill it?" The lawman asked.

"Fire," Brooklyn simply stated. "But the senses and physical attributes of the Wendigo give it superhuman speed and strength so killing it is a bit of a challenge."

"Well we can't let it roam free out there killing at will," the marshal argued.

"You didn't let me finish," she fired back. "I have killed Wendigos before and the best way to turn them into a smoldering pile of ash is a flaming arrow or flare gun up their ass."

The marshal laughed at her choice of words and sat down beside the hunter.

"So what are you?" He asked.

"Welcome to the conversation," she smiled. "I'm a hunter."

The lawman just looked strangely at her.

**Okay update coming soon.....**


	2. Down In a Hole

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

* * *

"So let me get this straight, you told him you were a hunter? Brook he's a damn US Marshal!" Dean looked at her in wild disbelief. "Were you trying to get arrested!?"

"Dean, I wasn't going to lie to him. For crying out loud a damn Wendigo was about to make us into dinner!"

Dean huffed and focused back on the road while Sam just shook his head. The younger hunter knew it was the green eyed monster flaring up in his brother but yet Dean refused to come around.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and encouraged her to continue.

"Go on Brook, I wanna hear what happened," Sam smiled at his friend.

Brooklyn nodded and picked up where she left off….

* * *

_Three years ago…_

"A hunter?" the lawman asked. Brooklyn shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head.

"Guilty," she responded slyly. "Look I know it's hard to believe but believe it. All the things that go bump in the night – demons, werewolves, ghosts and everything in between exists. Wendigos fall into this as well. I've been doing this since I was 16 and on my own since I was 25."

Brooklyn waited for it….The part where the cuffs were slapped on her wrists and the marshal telling her that she was crazy and needed serious help followed by a laundry list of charges. That part never came. The lawman just sat there and slid the book over and looked hard at the drawings and descriptions. His eyes traced every outline and word, intrigued that some of these entries looked centuries old. When he spotted the passage about the Colt, the lawman froze and stared hard at it.

"Yes that is the same Samuel Colt," she knew what he was thinking. "He knew about the existence of the supernatural and absolute good and evil. That part you won't find in the history books."

"So Samuel Colt crafted a gun that could kill anything non human?" He asked without looking up.

Brooklyn nodded and got up to fetch them a drink. She didn't travel far without her beloved drink, Jack Daniels and poured some into two glasses. The lawman accepted the offering and took a short drink letting the warmth of amber gold coat his throat.

"This is too much," the lawman sat back and took off his hat unsure of what to say or make of what was presented before him. He was used to going after living breathing people – drug lords, rapists, robbers – people who were evil. But this woman hunted something of another nature.

"Look you don't have to believe me but I'm telling you the truth. These things," she pointed at the book, "Are real and are out there. You probably crossed paths with someone who was being ridden by a demon and didn't even know it. Shapeshifters and werewolves mingle with us in the daylight where we dominate but at night….At night it's their time. People like me and my guardian and best friend; we kill these things and save people. It's not a glorious job, we don't get too many thank yous or pats on the back but we do it because we wanna help, just like you're a marshal because you don't want the bad guys hurting anyone."

The lawman took another drink and looked around the room. He saw a shotgun on the bed with ammunition beside it. His first instinct was to neutralize the target and subdue her; but he didn't and instead watched the hunter as she paced around the room for several moments before stopping in front of him.

"Oh and by the way I do know my name," she stuck out a hand, "I'm Brooklyn, Brooklyn DeTaurius."

"Raylan, Raylan Givens," he took her hand noticing how warm it was. Brooklyn withdrew her hand and started pacing again.

"Now that's been settled….We need to find out where it's hiding. Wendigos come out every 23 years to feed so it needs to gather enough prey to keep it nourished during those years. This area…it's riddled with abandoned coal mines right?"

"Right," Raylan nodded.

"It has to be close by where everyone vanished," Brooklyn darted for her laptop and flipped it open. Her fingers swept flawlessly over the keys as she pulled up a map of coal mines in the area. She looked for the park they were at and found at least three mines that could be Wendigo central.

"Tomorrow I need to head out at daybreak before anyone else can become Wendigo chow."

"You're not going anywhere…" Brooklyn snapped her head at Raylan, "Alone," he finished.

"So you're gonna be my babysitter?" She chuckled then quickly realized she was the only one finding humor in her joke.

"Right okay so…." Brooklyn looked away then back at Raylan. "I'm hitting the shower then bed. I'm leaving at 6. Do you need a ride home?"

"No, thank you," Raylan answered politely as he placed his hat back on and turned to leave. "I will see you tomorrow….Goodnight Brooklyn."

She watched as he quietly slipped out the door giving a tip of his hat before vanishing in the night. Brooklyn hopped off the chair and peeked out the window catching a glimpse of the light shaded Stetson before the darkness engulfed it. She found him intriguing as he didn't say much and didn't screw around when it came to saying like it is. His rugged good looks didn't help matters either. Sighing, she stripped down and headed for the shower. The hunter decided to do a little digging on the good marshal before heading to bed.

Later as she tried to fall asleep, Brooklyn's last conscious thought was of the marshal as she felt her body being lulled to sleep.

The next morning Brooklyn gathered her bag and stepped out of the room to find Raylan standing by her truck. He was dressed in the same attire as before only the clothing was different but the Stetson was the same. Brooklyn found herself smiling at the marshal as she unlocked the doors.

"I thought I was the only one who thrived on little sleep," she looked over at him.

"There's a lot you don't know," he answered as she started up the truck and headed back towards the woods.

"Well you can start at the beginning," Brooklyn offered. Raylan looked over at the hunter who just looked back with a set of calm grey eyes. Though he had just met the woman, the marshal felt compelled to open up to a certain degree.

"I was born and raised here, went to school here, chased girls and played ball. When I was old enough I worked in the coal mines just like every able bodied male in the county. But I left at 19 and became a marshal."

"You don't have to answer this but can I ask why?" Brooklyn carefully inquired. Raylan sighed and chose his words carefully.

"A lot of things," Was the answer she got. Brooklyn nodded and decided not to press the issue any further.

"I vowed never to come back here but my superiors saw things differently."

"Sounds like your bosses are a bunch of Grade A douchebags."

"I shot a drug thug in Miami and my superiors didn't see things the way I did. And as what they saw as fitting I was relocated back here," she heard the bitterness lightly echo in his tone.

Brooklyn just shook her head in silence. "Sorry to hear that," Raylan heard genuine empathy in her voice.

"So what about you? How did you end up doing this?" It was Raylan's turn to play twenty questions.

"It wasn't by chance," she started. "My parents and brother were killed by a demon and I was sent to Phoenix to live with a relative. I learned about his secret when I was nine and when I hit 16 I started hunting around the city. Nothing serious at first – ghosts and poltergeists really as Markus wasn't ready to let me chase down werewolves and wraiths. But when I turned 18 I graduated to bigger scarier things and my boyfriend Nate went with me."

Brooklyn paused and felt the old feelings surface. The pain of losing Nate ran through her once again emerging in the form of two tears. Raylan noticed the shaking in her talking as the hunter hastily wiping the tears from her face.

"I'm sorry…." She sniffled and rubbed her fingers on her jeans. "It's just every once in a while…."

"You don't need to explain yourself," Raylan said quietly. "I understand."

"Thanks," she smiled weakly and looked ahead. Brooklyn didn't tell anyone about Nate's death as Markus and Brady were the only ones who knew. But the marshal just sat quiet in his seat and patiently waited for Brooklyn to get control. Whatever had happened was something traumatic and extremely painful and he wasn't about to divulge her for information. If she wanted to share then she would but Raylan wouldn't push her.

The drive was in an awkward silence until they reached the parking lot and the Avalanche was put in park and engine killed.

"Ready?" She looked briefly at Raylan then hopped out to retrieve her bag. Raylan checked his gun despite his crash course in Wendigo lore. It was force of habit and not checking over his gun went against his nature. The marshal spotted Brooklyn walking towards the main trail and hurried to catch up. Her stride was steady and fluid as her head ducked and shifted to avoid the low hanging branches. In her hands was the map of the mines with a large red circle around the one that was closest to the disappearances. Wendigos didn't like straying too far from home when it came to hunting and the mine fit the quota.

Brooklyn continued hiking but picked up the heavier pace of the marshal from behind. His presence was a small comfort given she had hunted most of the Wendigos alone. She hoped his hand was fast as his mouth.

The entrance to the abandoned mine loomed ahead, hidden by overgrowth and boards to keep out trespassers and adventure seekers. The sign was faded but the scratches were deep enough that both could see _Danger- Keep Out_. Brooklyn tested the boards and stumbled back when the first one gave way from rot and decay. She landed backwards in Raylan and felt embarrassed all of a sudden.

"You okay?" He helped to steady her. Brooklyn didn't turn around but answered she was before dropping the board and proceeded to rip the rest apart. As she reached for the last two on the left, the hunter noticed they swung freely from the rusted nails on top.

"You sneaky son of a bitch," she shook her head and flashed a crooked grin before heading in. Raylan was on her heels with gun on his hip ready to use though Brooklyn's warning about the uselessness of his gun rang in his ears.

**Next update soon......**


	3. One Ugly Mother

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

deansbabygirl934- Thanks for the alert! And for those of you lurking around....come on in!

* * *

The air in the abandoned mine grew thicker and heavier with each passing foot. Brooklyn kept the bright beam of the flashlight trained ahead of her and the marshal. A chill ran through the air causing the hunter to shiver slightly. Raylan scanned the inky blackness ahead of him as memories of his time in the mines haunted his mind. Death was always looming in the dark corners of the caverns as cave-ins had claimed many a miner's lives.

Brooklyn ducked her head at the low wood beam with Raylan following suit. They continued in silence for felt like forever until they came upon a fork. Brooklyn shot a up a hand and listened.

"What is it?" Raylan asked. Brooklyn didn't immediately respond but turned her head and looked at the marshal through the corner of her eye.

"I think we're on the right track," the faint scream echoed from the right tunnel followed by a low feral growl. Raylan shuddered internally as the inhuman sound bounced off the walls and resonated behind and around them. He had heard bears and mountain lions at night growing up but this, this was nothing created by nature. Brooklyn started down the tunnel with the flare gun now in her hand. Her steps were soft and slow, pausing at the slightest shift in the ground or further down the tunnel. Raylan reached down and felt the cool metal of his gun as it sat in its holster.

_Bullets can't kill this thing….._

The growling started growing louder and closer to the pair but Brooklyn suspected it was a trick, a way to fool them into a trap or worse. The Wendigo watched and waited for its query to come to it. The one in front was cautious but confident while the one behind her kept close but it sensed that he could be a problem. It spied a loose boulder on the right side of the cave.

The massive rock dropped from its resting place startling both hunter and marshal creating confusion for both. Brooklyn yelped in shock and the flashlight slipped from her hand then banged against the rocky wall breaking the bulb. The cave was engulfed in total darkness.

"Raylan!" Brooklyn hollered out while Raylan hollered out for her. She ran towards the sound of the marshal's voice, nearly colliding with him as he was coming towards her as well.

"You alright?" Brooklyn asked as she felt her way around the walls and crags.

"Yeah," Raylan answered. "You have another flashlight?"

"Yeah it's in my bag," Brooklyn rummaged through her bag and clutched the spare flashlight in her grip.

The Wendigo spot its chance. The smell of rotted flesh made Raylan sick as the Wendigo rushed by and snatched the unsuspecting hunter. The marshal called out for Brooklyn repeatedly only to have a rush of air slam him in the face in response. Raylan gathered his composure then slowly moved ahead unsure of what he would encounter. His only thought was to find Brooklyn and hopefully anyone else who may be alive. As he proceeded down the shaft his boot kicked something hard. Raylan stopped and knelt down looking for the mystery object. His hands searched the damp ground before his fingers brushed along the smooth edge of the Maglite.

"Brooklyn must've dropped it for me," he smiled to himself. The hunter may have been snatched by a creature with stronger physical attributes, but it didn't count on the simple deception of the small woman. Raylan jumped to his feet and flipped the light on once again filling the mine with precious beautiful light. Taking a deep breath, Raylan started at a faster pace and noticed the small trail of Skittles below him.

"She's a damn genius," he couldn't but help to grin at her ingenuity. Following the rainbow on the ground, Raylan headed deeper in the mountain.

* * *

Dean flashed a look at Brooklyn who merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Dean, you aren't the first and won't be the last to use food like that."

The hunter huffed as his frustrations and jealousy swirled just beneath the surface. Sam rolled his eyes behind his brother's back. Why didn't he just acknowledge what he's feeling? For the last few days Dean had been keeping Brooklyn at arm's length. One minute he's ready to confess his heart then the next he remains distant. At this rate Dean will push her away for good and he would only have himself to blame.

"Brook," Sam intervened, "Just ignore him Brook, he's being a jerk."

Brooklyn turned back to Sam as he was interested in her little story. They still had about a hundred miles left until they reached Lexington and staring at a bunch of hills and trees wouldn't help pass the time for any of them.

* * *

_Three years earlier…._

Brooklyn woke up and slowly opened her eyes. She looked around the large opening seeing a wooden platform overhead and beyond that daylight.

_Must be some kind of escape shaft or something….._

The hunter struggled to move but found her hands were bound above her head while her feet brushed along the ground. The putrid smell of rotted flesh and blood hung in the air nearly choking off what air remained. The odor was so overwhelming it made the hunter gag and almost lose the morning's meal.

_Yeah that's a real nice way to go…._

Her thoughts were interrupted by groaning from her immediate right. Brooklyn jerked her head back and found another person, a man, tied up and still alive.

"Hey," she called over. The man groaned again and his eyes started to flutter open. Two rich blue gems peered over at the hunter and focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Think so," he replied in a groggy tone. "But I think my ankle's broken."

"Shit," Brooklyn muttered before addressing the man again. "Look I have a friend that's out there looking for us. I made a trail for him."

"Don't hold your breath," the man bitterly laughed. "That thing out there will kill him before he can even find us."

"You'd be surprised," she argued. Before she could utter another breath, the Wendigo approached the chamber. Brooklyn and the man went silent as the vile smelling creature appeared. Both had their eyes closed, hoping it would think they were still unconscious. The wet ragged wheezing that passed as its breathing drew closer to Brooklyn. She fought to keep still as in inhaled the scent of her body wash. It remained beside her and continued to revel in her aura before moving behind her towards an unseen victim.

The woman heard the Wendigo approach and immediately panicked. Her bloodcurdling scream reverberated in the chamber and throughout the vacant tunnels which caught Rayland's attention. The marshal sprinted through the tunnel as the dying wails of the woman guided him on.

"Please don't let it be her," he prayed though he was dismayed that there was one he wouldn't be able to help. The marshal collided with a large slab of rock that jutted out into the shaft and panted hard as he fought to control his breathing. This was nothing like he had been trained for or even encountered but then again there was first time for everything. Rayland peered around the corner and spied the slimy back of the Wendigo as it feasted on another victim. He saw Brooklyn and another person hanging like ducks in a Chinese marketplace.

Rayland slid back against the rock and waited until the Wendigo had finished. The slurping sounds had ceased and the footsteps picked back up and advanced on his hiding place. The marshal sunk further against the rocks and blended in with the shadows as the creature passed by. It was then he got a good hard look at the Wendigo. Green slimy skin covered the body while long razor sharp nails adorned the fingers. It was tall thin and hunched over slightly as it passed the marshal but appearances were deceiving as it possessed inhuman speed and strength.

He waited until the Wendigo rounded a corner and vanished down another shaft before springing from his hiding place and rushing in. Brooklyn looked up to see Raylan charging in with relief in his dark eyes. She found herself smiling at the man as he started messing with the ropes.

"I have a knife in my bag," Raylan dropped down and searched the rucksack until he found the large Bowie knife. He looked up with a questioning look but Brooklyn rolled her eyes.

"Hey a girl's gotta protect herself right?"

"Right," Raylan shook his head and cut the hunter down.

"The man over there's alive but he may be hurt," Brooklyn retrieved the flare gun out of her bag as Raylan freed the man.

"Raylan take him and get outta here," Brooklyn flung the sack across her chest.

"No way," the marshal argued.

"Damn it we don't have time for this! Get him out of here!" Brooklyn snapped sharply and pointed at the tunnels and pleaded with her eyes.

"Raylan please just go," she begged with a softer tone. "You just have to trust me."

The marshal wanted to drag her with him even if she was kicking and screaming but spotted the look in her eyes. He had seen that look before time and time again. It was when someone's mind and soul was prepared for the unspoken chance he or she wouldn't make it out from battle.

"Brooklyn please…."

"No," she shook her head. "If I can distract it long enough for you two to get out…"

Brooklyn watched as Raylan stood frozen in place and knew the marshal wasn't going to see things her way. She growled in frustration and motioned for them to follow her.

_Damn stubborn marshal….._

They were all sitting ducks.


	4. Silent Exchange

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

* * *

They were 50 miles outside of Lexington and Brooklyn felt her heart skip a beat. Sure it had been over two years since she last saw Raylan but it didn't mean she had forgotten about him. She found herself wondering what if she had stayed and not left that night but immediately shook the thoughts from her mind and sat back in her seat. Dean and caught the dreamy look in her eyes and pretended he didn't see the distant look of longing in those soft smoky hues. He knew who she was thinking about and it wasn't him.

"Hey Brook," Sam gently shook her shoulder. "Are you okay up there?"

"Yeah I'm fine," she waved off his concern. "Okay I better wrap this up then."

_Three years earlier…_

Brooklyn kept the flare gun pointed straight ahead in a tight grip. Raylan kept up with her despite the added weight of the injured man. They were halfway through the winding maze of tunnels and shafts when Brooklyn felt the sinister presence of the Wendigo.

"We're not alone," she spun around searching for the creature. Raylan heard the growling coming up ahead of them.

"It's in front of us," Brooklyn saw the tall figure blocking their means of escape. It encroached upon the trio forcing them back into the large chamber.

Raylan kept backing up but Brooklyn took aim and opened fire. The flare whistled as it was dislodged and raced towards its target. The creature spotted the weapon and darted aside seconds before it passed by and smashed against the wall.

"Shit," Brooklyn turned and ushered Raylan and the man back in the room. The Wendigo sought to take its rage out on the hunter and singled her out. The marshal watched as the creature took a swipe at Brooklyn and succeeded in slashing her shirt and skin open. He grabbed his gun while holding the injured man and opened fire at the Wendigo. It snarled as the bullet lodged in its shoulder but remained focused on Brooklyn. The hunter shrieked in pain and clutched the wound tight as blood trickled from between her fingers and stained her shirt and jeans. Her bag had been torn away and landed by Raylan's feet. He spotted another flare gun and got an idea.

"I'm gonna put you down," he carefully leaned the injured man against the wall and dove for the gun. The Wendigo closed in on the hunter, ready to deliver the death blow. Brooklyn looked up into the dead lifeless pools of the beast and prepared herself for death. At least she would see her loved ones again and hoped the transition wouldn't be too painful.

Raylan took aim and pulled the trigger. The flare didn't miss its mark. The Wendigo wailed and screamed as the flare burst into flames and devoured its body. It flailed its arms and legs which caused the flames to climb and burn brighter and taller. Raylan helped Brooklyn to her feet and saw the wounds were deep but not life threatening. She winced in pain but managed to stand on her feet.

"I'll be okay," she waved him off and motioned for Raylan to get the man. The hunter had been through worse and alone like when she had the broken wrist in Chicago after the poltergeist. She would survive this as she had time and time again though minutes before she was willing to meet Death head on.

* * *

"Keep this here," the EMT instructed Brooklyn to keep the pad on her injuries. She nodded and relaxed on the stretcher. It had been a real bitch of a day.

Raylan was briefly examined before being released. He had a few scrapes and bruises but they were superficial at most. They all had agreed it was a bear that attacked them despite some lingering doubts by a few.

"Are you sure it was a bear?" the sheriff asked. He looked down with suspicion in his eyes but Brooklyn put on her angelic face and played the role of innocent.

"Positive," Brooklyn nodded with certainty. Raylan had to hand it to her she had one helluva poker face and suspected it was from years of hunting. She was calm and at ease despite the horde of badges, suits, and uniforms surrounding her. The woman was definitely in control of her domain. As he continued watching the hunter his phone went off and noticed it was Art. He sighed and answered the call though he wanted to ignore the blaring ringtone.

"Yeah," he answered.

_"Please tell me you didn't kill anyone?" _

"No," Raylan shook his head. "Let's say for once it's the opposite."

_"You wanna run that by me again?"_

"Let's just say two lives were saved tonight."

_"I see….Well tomorrow I want to see you first thing in the morning."_

"Right of course," Raylan sighed and hung up. He looked over at Brooklyn who was finally free of the swarms of cops. She caught his eye and waved him over. Brooklyn couldn't but help to smile at him as he walked up and noticed a smile was creeping up on his lips.

"I wanted to say sorry," she started.

"For what?" Raylan was taken aback.

"For snapping at you," she answered though the face she made indicated that wasn't what she truly wanted to say. The marshal stood back as the EMTs loaded the stretcher up in the ambulance. His eyes never breaking away from hers even as the ambulance doors were being closed. A feeling of longing was shared between the two though neither one didn't realize it. The marshal felt the rich soft smoky pools pulling him in to her until the other door shut and severed their bond. Brooklyn snapped from her trance and frantically waved her hands at the EMTs.

"Wait," Brooklyn pointed at Raylan. "He's coming."

The EMTs traded looks then one motioned for Raylan to get in. The marshal climbed inside, careful to avoid the equipment and supplies present. He eased his lanky frame on the bench all the while keeping his gaze on the hunter.

"You have a good aim," she flashed a crooked smile.

"When I shoot, I shoot to kill," he calmly replied.

Brooklyn smiled and closed her eyes on the ride to the hospital. Raylan reached out taking her hand in his. It was warm and soft, not what he expected as he thought a hunter's touch would be rough and calloused. His fingers wrapped around her hand and didn't let go until they reached the hospital.

_Present time…_

Rain had been on and off as they entered Lexington. Water pooled in potholes hiding the danger below. Dean cursed when his baby hit three of these landmines and attempted to swerve on the fourth and almost hit a semi head on. The driver laid on the horn and flipped him off as the rumbling truck roared by. They were almost to the hotel but Brooklyn didn't want to stop there first.

"I told Raylan we would meet him before heading to the hotel," Brooklyn didn't care if Dean was seething beneath or not when she announced the change of plans. The tone in the marshal's voice when she heard the voicemail was urgent and bordered on panic which was rare for him. Dean's shoulders slumped and his eyes kept focused on the road. He didn't know what the guy looked like and he wasn't interested to meet the man either. Sam kept quiet but when he had the opportunity he was going to corner Dean and have a little talk.

* * *

Raylan looked over the files sprawled out on the table. He took a long slow drink of the Jim Beam while studying each crime scene photo carefully. Each victim had been found with their intestines, heart, liver and other internal organs ripped from their bodies and strewn about. So much rage had been displayed upon each poor soul. Blood had been found pooling up to several feet away from each victim soaking into the ground and turning it a bloody mess of crimson and earth. Sure he had seen what happened to unfortunate bastards that crossed paths with drug cartels and the hits paled in comparison to the images of slaughter that were spread out.

"Drug dealers and white supremacists I get…" the marshal paused and took another drink. Before he finished his words, Raylan spotted movement from the corner of his eye. Walking to the window he peered through the curtains and spotted the Impala pulling up to the tiny lot. He felt his heart quicken when his keen eye spotted the recognizable shape sliding from the front of the classic. She still looked just as beautiful as he remembered. If only…..

Brooklyn approached the door and rapped on the dense wood. It was rotting in spots and the number 6 was swinging upside down.

"Nice place," she muttered under her breath and scanned the row of doors. The termites were probably keeping the place together.

Raylan paused with his hand around the knob and took a long deep breath. After three years she still had that effect on him- and he loved it. Memories of time spent with the hunter visited his mind as he tightened his grip and twisted the brass knob. Warmth spread throughout his body, killing any chill or cold that may have been present before. A tiny pang of hope had sprung from nowhere as he pondered what if. Perhaps they could rekindle what they had…..


	5. Something Strange in the Neighborhood

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the guys…*sighs*

* * *

"Get a grip Givens," Raylan chided himself before twisting the knob and pulling the door open. He exhaled as the cheap slab swung wider and came face to face with Brooklyn. His heart paused at the sight of the hunter as she stood there with that gentle smile he fell in love with. Her features hadn't changed a bit since the last time they laid eyes upon one another.

Brooklyn waved her wand back and forth bringing Raylan out of his little trance. The marshal blinked and shook his head then looked back down at the hunter. Dean raised an eyebrow in suspicion but held his tongue. He wasn't going to rip the man to shreds….well not yet anyways. But he was infringing on his territory.

"Brook," Raylan leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Brooklyn had another idea. Before he pulled away, the marshal was caught off guard when he felt her hands bringing him down until their mouths met. Dean watched the rather friendly exchange but still remained silent. Sam saw the anger burning in his brother's eyes and placed a cautionary hand upon his brother's shoulder.

"Dean….Unless you're gonna say it," he warned him.

Brooklyn pulled back leaving Raylan stunned but in a pleasant kind of way. That was a greeting he didn't see coming.

"Hi Raylan," she stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips while the rich smoky hues sparkled despite the gloomy surroundings.

"Brooklyn hi," he finally sputtered out. Raylan kept his gaze locked with hers before glancing up at the Winchesters. One was tall with rich brown hair and soulful eyes. The other however wasn't so open. He was shorter than the other with intense emerald depths. Raylan got the distinct feeling the shorter man didn't like him.

"Raylan I want you to meet a few people," she stood back and stood beside Sam. "This is Sam Winchester," Raylan smiled and took the hand Sam offered.

"Good to finally meet you," Sam was open and warm. Raylan knew they would get along just fine. Brooklyn's face dropped a little when she stepped beside the shorter man.

"This is Dean Winchester," Raylan offered his hand but Dean didn't respond initially but finally took the marshal's hand.

"Good to meet you Dean," Raylan held an even tone. He had no reason to be rude or cold towards Dean even if he was.

"Likewise," Brooklyn knew he was speaking half-truths. He saw Raylan as competition and she was the prize. Well Brooklyn wasn't about to become some trophy.

"So Raylan," she quickly changed the subject, "Whatcha got?"

* * *

Dean carefully studied the photos while Brooklyn and Sam sat in front of the laptop. Raylan was perched behind the two as they pulled up articles about the deaths.

"When did these start?" Dean asked without looking up.

"About three days ago," Raylan answered. He lifted his eyes towards the other hunter and observed Dean while he shifted through the other file on the table. He didn't pick up much initially though he had the feeling by the time this was done and over with he would know something about Dean Winchester.

"Did you see or smell any sulfur near the bodies?" Brooklyn turned her head up towards Raylan.

"No," he shook his head. Well so much for it being a demon. "But there was something else," he rounded the table and scanned the photos over Dean's shoulder until he spotted the photo of the first victim.

"Excuse me," he plucked the picture of the table and held it closer to the light. It had to be there since these were taken before the ME or CSI could touch a thing. His sharp eyes moved methodically over the image until he spotted it.

"Here," he handed the photo to Sam and pointed at the spot on the upper left corner. Sam narrowed his eyes as he focused on the blurry object. It looked like some kind of plant or flower maybe…

"Did they find out what it was?" He asked while trying to decipher the object.

"Yeah they did…." Raylan looked through another file and handed it over. Sam flipped through the official reports and notes noticing the same thing written over and over about the victims.

_Internal organs scattered around the ground…._

_Wounds unable to be identified….._

This was definitely up their alley. Strange wounds and organs scattered in an almost ceremonial manner. That wasn't in the reports but years of hunting and experience told Sam a separate story. Whatever did this had a method, a reason as to why the victims were left in such a manner. It was nothing like he had ever seen before or could remember.

"What do you make of it?" Sam tapped his fingers on the Formica top table before responding.

"At this point I don't know," he sighed heavily. "It's ceremonial in nature based on the way the organs were arranged around the bodies. The item or items left behind I would need to get a look at up close."

"Those would be at the local police department," Raylan offered. "If you want I could go and find out what I can."

"Well…." Sam started to say but stopped. Revealing to a Federal marshal that you used false id badges and pretended to be law enforcement officials was probably not the best idea at the moment.

"That would be great," he said instead. Raylan nodded and turned back to Brooklyn who was pouring over a worn looking journal. Her eyes were locked in concentration as they swept back and forth over the faded pages.

"Well this doesn't offer up anything new," she looked up and handed the open book over to Dean. It was John's journal, the Winchester Bible so to speak. Between the two leather flaps some of the best held information on the paranormal and supernatural existed.

Dean slipped the book back in his bag and turned back over to Brooklyn who was now sifting through a few other books she had brought along. The manner to which the bodies were arranged eliminated some of the usual suspects but still they had nothing.

"I'm going for a pop," Brooklyn announced and headed out. Raylan followed behind her leaving Dean and Sam to finish up the research. The older Winchester could only watch as the marshal followed her out. He wanted to tell her how he felt but after Cassie he wasn't so certain he could be in another relationship.

"Brook," Raylan called out. Brooklyn straightened up and looked over her shoulder to see the marshal trotting towards her. The thud of aluminum against hard plastic caught her attention as the Diet Coke rolled down then came to a stop. She scooped it up and turned back around to come face to face with the hunter.

"Brook hey can we talk?"

"Sure," she smiled and popped the top. "What's going on?"

"Listen I know it's been three years since I last saw you but….." he paused and rubbed the back of his neck. Brooklyn watched him as he fought to find the right words to say.

"Raylan," she set the can down and looked up at him. "I think I know what you're trying to say."

"You do?"

She nodded and sat down on a nearby bench then motioned for him to sit.

"Raylan I know it's been hard on you since I left," she looked over at him. "Tim's been keeping in touch with me and I didn't know…." She paused then looked back over. "I didn't know I hurt you like that. I thought I was protecting you after what happened."

"Brook," Raylan closed his hand in hers. "When you left I was angry, hell I was angrier than I had ever been in my life. But then one day I finally understood why you did it."

"I lost too many friends to demons and I didn't want to lose you too," she said in a subdued depressed tone. Her head was hanging down as if she was ashamed of what she did. Raylan slid closer and pulled her back up and over towards him. He gently tilted her chin up exposing what she had been hiding from the marshal. Tears rolled down her face distorting the rich smoky pools.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed softly.

"Don't be sorry," he quietly told her. "You were only trying to protect me."

Raylan embraced the shaking sobbing hunter and rested his forehead on her shoulder. He could never hate the hunter- he was still in love with her. But it still killed him when she left that cold November night and his heart hadn't recovered completely but with her back perhaps…..

The shrill scream shattered the still Kentucky night. Brooklyn broke from Raylan's arms and sprinted off.

"Brook!" He hollered but she was already halfway down the road.

Dean and Sam heard the scream and grabbed their weapons just as Raylan burst through the door.

"She took off," he hitched a thumb backwards.

* * *

Brooklyn followed the screams knowing she was getting closer as they continued to grow louder and more agonizing with each passing second. But another sound, one that had taken on an inhuman growl had overpowered the former. The hunter passed through a park entrance and hurried into the woods. It was the same one she had battled the Wendigo years before.

The hunter raced deeper in the woods as the concrete path had run out and the well traveled trail passed beneath her feet. She felt her heart pumping fast and hard, threatening to explode if she didn't stop. But someone was in distress and needed help.

With gun drawn, she came upon a grisly scene, one that put any serial killer to shame. On the forest floor was what appeared to be the remains of a man. His organs were strewn across and around his torso which had been shredded open. Skin and flesh hung precariously on the sides allowing blood to flow out and soak the ground. His eyes had been ripped out and were nowhere to be seen.

Brooklyn knelt down to examine the corpse, finding it was still warm. Who or whatever had done this couldn't be too far away. The overwhelming smell of fresh blood and viscera purged her senses and nearly made her gag. Brooklyn fell back and heard something close by. She spun around and scanned the trees but saw nothing. Still, she could hear it and feel it watching her.

"Come on out," she challenged it. It responded. The first blow lashed across her chest and jaw knocking her to the bed of needles and leaves. The second blow slashed across her stomach, ripping her shirt open. Brooklyn hissed in pain as the marks burned and seared her skin. She looked over and saw what attacked her.

It stood as tall as a man dressed in tattered clothing from another time. Its pants were thin strips which were held together by a belt. The shoes were black or brown but Brooklyn wasn't concerned as the tips had pieces of flesh on it. The shirt looked more like a tunic and even in the silver light the hunter noticed the bits of worn leathery skin hanging underneath. Its body or what was left of it clung to bone while exposing parts of the gleaming material beneath. But it was the eyes that made her break out in a cold sweat. Deep pits where eyes should've been stared back at her. But she could feel the cold hatred bearing down upon her soul. In one hand an ancient blade was gripped tight and dripping with fresh blood.

Brooklyn crawled backwards away from the body but the thing encroached on the hunter with blade raised and ready to strike.

**Next update soon.....Thanks to everyone for reading and adding to their alerts!!!**


	6. Lead

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's though I wished I owned the rest….*sighs*

* * *

Brooklyn rolled to the right milliseconds before the blade clashed against the rock creating tiny sparks in its wake.

"That was close," she panted before rolling the other way. Fugly was just warming up. It reached down and wrapped its cold clammy hand around the hunter's throat. Brooklyn felt her body being lifted up off the soft earth as Fugly lifted her higher until her toes brushed against the ground. She struggled to breathe and clawed at the bony fingers. Her feet flailed but struck only air. Fugly flashed a sinister grin revealing several teeth were missing while other dangled precariously from the gums or rather what was left of them.

It extended a claw like hand and slammed it against Brooklyn's chest. The hunter cried in pain as it felt as if her heart were on fire. She couldn't scream for her voice was dead in her throat. The ability to breathe was turning harder and harder the longer Fugly kept his hand around her throat. Images flashed in her mind as she felt the lights slowly begin to go out.

_Two years earlier…._

"I've been thinking," Raylan shot a strange look across at Brooklyn.

"Thinking about what?" He asked cautiously.

"Staying…..I think I found a damn good reason to stay here…..you…." The marshal blinked in disbelief at first before it slowly sunk in. She wanted to stay!

"So you want to stay here with me?" Brooklyn grinned and nodded at him as she draped an arm over his naked waist.

"Yeah," she grinned wider. "You can be difficult sometimes but I can live with that."

Raylan lightly laughed as she did have a point after all. "Yeah I can be but…."

"But what?" Brooklyn raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"But what we have I don't want to lose," Raylan confessed, "Ever since the night in the ambulance."

Brooklyn leaned in pressing her lips flush with his while her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Raylan deepened the heated need between them and gently pushed her back into the mattress. Their bodies collided with heated passion as they reveled in their newfound love for one another.

_Present time…_

"Bullets don't stop it!" Dean hollered but Raylan ignored him and took aim. The marshal hit his mark with three salt filled bullets halting Fugly from finishing off Brooklyn altogether. It dropped the unconscious hunter as it wailed in pain and flashed a pair of blood red eyes that bled with hatred towards the trio. Fugly vanished while continuing to howl in pain and Dean hurried to where Brooklyn was laying still on the ground.

"Brook," Dean searched and found a pulse. "Brook can you hear me?"

Raylan and Sam swooped in across from Dean and noticed several distinct marks on her throat.

"Sam," Raylan pointed out the handprints which covered her throat. Long ugly lines blocked out the color of her skin as it appeared a rich crimson and not the gentle hues of peach and flesh. Dean carefully scooped the hunter up in his arms and raced back to the hotel. Sam and Raylan picked up the slack and remained armed in case Fugly decided to pay another visit.

* * *

Dean kept vigil by Brooklyn's side and continuously ran a cool cloth over her head and face.

"Damn it Brook," he muttered. "Why did you run off like that?"

Raylan quietly observed the scene from the other side of the room watching how Dean remained faithfully by her side. The marshal wasn't sure what was going on between them but he had the impression it was one sided. Still he wasn't deterred by what his eyes witnessed. After they stopped what was terrorizing Harlan County he was going tell her everything.

"Uhhhhhhh," Brooklyn started to stir and her eyelids fluttered open. Dean leapt up and smiled in relief as the hunter came around. She placed a hand to her throat feeling the red raw skin beneath her touch.

"Brook…." Dean took her hand in his and ran his other over the top of hers. Brooklyn started to sit up but hissed in pain at her error while her head spun and she was lightheaded. Raylan pulled up a chair across from Dean and held up a finger.

"Brook how many fingers am I holding up?" Brooklyn squinted at the marshal before choosing her answer.

"One," she said with confidence.

"What day is it?"

"Friday," she responded.

"What's the last thing you remember?" The marshal's tone turned softer.

"Almost being choked to death by a Thriller video reject," she clamped both hands over her forehead as the pounding increased.

"Why does my head hurt?" She looked at the three men.

"Your head hit a rock when the Thing dropped you," Dean looked at the back of her head and parted the coppery locks to get a better look at her head injury. It was a small gash but the skin around it started turning yellow and purple.

"You probably have a slight concussion too," Sam added and went to find the pain killers.

Raylan placed a hand on Brooklyn's shoulder as she continued to fight off the blinding pain. He dared to sit on the edge of the bed beside the hunter and carefully take her in his arms. Dean glared at the marshal but found he couldn't respond. The fear of confessing his heart and watching it get broken clenched his body and mind. Why couldn't he say the words he knew she so desperately wanted to hear from him?

Sam returned and dropped the pills in Brooklyn's hand and waited for her to pop them down before passing the cup over.

"Thanks," she whispered then looked over at Dean. Brooklyn spotted the unmistakable hint of jealousy in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him but Dean got up and headed towards the laptop. The stare burned into the back of his head as he sat down and flipped it open.

"Hey Dean," Brooklyn called out. Dean peered up over the top of the screen as Brooklyn pulled something out of her jeans pocket. "I found this by the body before Fugly came after me."

Dean hopped up and took the object from her hand and let his hand slide alongside hers. He caught the tiny sweet smile upon her lips before heading back towards the computer. The hunter held it under the light to take a better look at it.

"Hey Sam, come take a look at this," Sam hurried over and looked at the object in his brother's hand. "What do you make of this?"

Sam examined the object under the light and noticed the unfamiliar language etched in it. It looked to be an idol or statue of some kind.

"Looks Native American to me," he passed it back to Dean. Raylan gently released Brooklyn who had fallen asleep and headed towards the brothers.

"May I see that?" He asked in his polite Southern tone. Dean passed it over and watched the marshal's brow furrow in concentration. His eyes carefully went over every symbol and scratch before breaking contact and placing it on the table.

"I know someone who can help. That is probably Cherokee or Shawnee."

* * *

Sam stayed behind with Brooklyn while Dean and Raylan drove towards the University of Kentucky. He was hesitant about the two heading alone as only one would probably return alive. But Raylan's assurances eased his anxious mind but slightly as they headed off in the Impala.

"So you and Brook met while she was hunting a Wendigo huh?" Dean asked.

"Yep," Raylan quietly answered.

"So how long did she stay with you?" Raylan raised an eyebrow at the hunter. If he wanted to play this little game then he would just play right along.

"She stayed with me for a year," he hesitated as bringing up the night she left would only make him ache again.

"That so?"

"Yeah that's so," the marshal answered. Dean sensed he was withholding something from him and attempted to uncover what that was.

**Okay I am really sorry about the late delay........Feedback is appreciated**


	7. History Lesson

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the rest…*sighs*

_**A/N: **_I am sooo sorry about the extra late delay but I was a bit fried in the brain with this one but now I think I'm back on track.

* * *

"Sam why did you let those two go alone?" Brooklyn groaned as she stretched then rubbed her temples.

"Because you were out cold and no one was about to wake you up. You were nearly killed last night and have a concussion not to mention the nice gash on the back of your head."

"Point taken," she sighed. The hunter scanned the room searching for something that remotely resembled breakfast but came out disappointed.

"There's a bran muffin in the bag," Sam pointed at the table. "Raylan did a coffee run this morning."

"He still remembered," Brooklyn muttered with a soft smile.

"I don't think he ever forgot anything about you," Sam heard every word. "Look Raylan and I talked last night and though he won't admit it, he's still in love with you. He didn't have to tell me- I could see it in the way he spoke about you."

"Did he also tell you I broke his heart?" Brooklyn asked sadly and looked away.

"No we skipped that chapter."

"I suppose I better tell you then huh?" Sam sat down and placed supportive hand on her shoulder.

"Only if you want to tell me," he wasn't about to pressure his friend.

* * *

The rain finally released its merciless hold over the area as the Impala pulled up to the university. Dean had kept his eyes trained on the road as the throngs of students marched across the street like ants.

"Can they possibly go any slower?" Dean growled impatiently. Raylan looked sideways at the hunter carefully studying the sandy haired man. His younger handsome features were mired in acute frustration.

"Apparently you've never been on a college campus have you?" The marshal quipped.

"I make it a point to avoid such places," the hunter gripped the wheel of his baby tightly as the steady stream of students refused to abate anytime soon. Raylan chuckled at Dean remained indifferent to the irritation it caused him. A tense silence hung heavily in the confined space of the Impala for several minutes longer until the end of the students came into view.

"Finally," Dean grumbled and threw his car in gear as the last student crossed in front. The wheels squealed against the wet pavement earning a few looks from nearby pedestrians. They were headed towards Patterson Office Tower where a friend of Raylan's was a professor in American history.

Chester Lake sat at his laptop going over the stack of emails that patiently waited for his return from vacation. He could hear the call of the gulls fill his mind and ears as he had taken two weeks off to Florida to conduct joint research with the National Park Service. They had found some unusual artifacts around the foundation of the Castillo de San Marcos and his extensive knowledge on pre-Colombian civilizations had been in demand. He initially expected to find nothing out of ordinary which was the case the first part of the week. The usual pottery shards and occasional musket ball turned up with a Spanish helmet being the high point. But then one of the rangers found a long forgotten chamber and the trove of artifacts contained within.

The light rapping knocked him from his thoughts and Chester looked up to see Raylan in the doorway. The marshal's face brightened into a smile at the sight of his old friend.

"Well son of a bitch…." Chester hopped up and grabbed the outstretched hand pulling Raylan in a brief embrace.

"Raylan you sly dog how've you been?"

"If I said I was great I'd be lying," the marshal responded. Dean strode in the door but kept his distance from Raylan. Chester caught the new arrival and nodded in Dean's direction.

"Who's your friend?"

_Friend? _Dean snorted.

"This is Dean Winchester….." Dean took the professor's hand in a strong but open handshake.

"Hi," the hunter gave a half hearted wave before stepping back.

"Brook's back," Raylan sputtered from out of nowhere.

"Really? Well where is she? I have something I wanted to give her from Saint Augustine," he circled around his desk and flung a drawer open producing a small pouch which Raylan tucked in his jacket.

"I'll give it to her tonight," Raylan nodded and smiled.

"So how's she doing? I haven't seen her since…" he stopped before bringing up any painful memories for the marshal. Dean wondered just what had happened that caused Brooklyn to leave the sticks and made a mental note to find out. Perhaps the little tidbit could be to his advantage.

"Brook's fine," Raylan nodded, "But we need your help Chester."

"What's going on?" Dean produced the small idol they found at the attack scene and placed in the center of the desk. Chester's eye lit up as he scooped the item up and got a better look at it.

"Where did you get this?" His sharp trained eyes carefully examined the intricate details carved into the tiny totem.

Dean cleared his throat and jumped in before the marshal could utter a word. "It was found outside of Harlan."

Raylan raised an eyebrow as he craned his neck in the hunter's direction. Dean felt the eyes of the marshal on him and immediately locked eyes with the older man. Chester wasn't aware of the heated staring contest going on only a few feet away for he was enveloped in the intricate details of the tiny statue clasped comfortably in his hands. His fingers lightly traced over the lips and nose then over and along the eyes and feathers that adorned the head. At the feet lay two figures that appeared to be some sort of sacrifice or servants but Chester wasn't certain.

"Hey Raylan you don't mind if I…." Chester looked up and paused mid sentence. Dean and Raylan continued to look the other one down. Raylan wore a stone mask while Dean displayed intimidation. Chester suppressed a chuckle for the younger man had no idea who he was attempting to stare down.

* * *

Brooklyn sat on the edge of bed, unsure if she could recall that night she broke Raylan's heart. Sam observed the conflict brewing in the hunter's eyes as she stared out the window as the rain beat steadily against the drab window.

"Brook," Sam eased his larger frame beside hers, "You don't have to tell me. I understand if it's too painful."

"I didn't want to leave him Sam," she began to speak in a small shaky voice. "But staying would only get him hurt or killed. I couldn't do that to him."

"I think he understands," Sam wrapped his arms around her, "And even if he was hurt or angry then he isn't now."

"But I know it killed him inside," Brooklyn sighed sadly.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Sam carefully nudged her.

"That might be a good idea Sam," she dared to allow a tiny smile creep up along her lips. "We need to clear the air between us."

"Never hurts," Sam smiled back.

"I think we should work on finding out more about our little mysterious idol until the guys get back. I still can't believe you let Raylan and Dean go alone in the same car!"

Brooklyn flopped down before the computer and started pulling up local native lore. That had always worked out best for her when dealing with such situations. Sam could see her mind was elsewhere despite the hunter's best efforts to focus on the screen. He watched as she slid her phone out and punched what appeared to be a brief text. Probably to Raylan but that was her business.

* * *

Raylan felt the buzzing go off in his pocket and quickly excused himself leaving Dean and Chester alone. The marshal stepped out in the hall and smiled when he saw a text message waiting from Brooklyn.

_When you get back we need to talk_

_-B_

He didn't reply and instead stepped back inside to find Dean and Chester discussing local lore.

"So what you're saying is that this legend of a lost colony…."

"Many say it's a legend and nothing more," Chester shrugged. "But some argue there was indeed such a group who landed at Mobile Bay centuries before Columbus. They were called the Welch by Cherokee or Moon Eye People by Creek and Seminole. The stories, I suppose you could call them that, tell of this group being welcomed in by the ancestors of the Cherokee. But when De Soto arrived on the scene the tribe was massacred but not before a curse was set upon the land."

"Which includes Harlan County," Dean hung his head. "Freaking lovely. So is there anything else about this curse that you can tell us?"

"Well there are a few Cherokee around Harlan that may be able to help."

"Alright then," Dean stood up anxious to get back. "We appreciate your help Chester."

He shook the man's hand and headed towards the hall. Chester waited until the shorter man was out of earshot before he talked to Raylan.

"So with Brook back does it mean you two will….."

"I don't know Chester," the marshal looked down at the Stetson in his hands. "She wants to talk to me after I get back."

"Then don't disappoint," he grinned at his friend.


	8. Reminisce

_**A/N: **_I don't own anyone but my OC's…though I wished I owned the rest…*sighs*

* * *

_Four years earlier…._

Brooklyn shoved the bag of ice against her right shoulder and winced deeply in pain. The poltergeist had managed to get two good slams in before the hunter succeeded in salting and burning the doll that was made of its hair.

"Fucking bitch," she snarled and shifted around the bed with the dexterity of an elderly woman. Her muscles were ablaze with the invisible flames that licked every inch of her body and threatened to enrage and put the hunter through literal Hell with even the slightest of movement. If she could move in the morning without any help that alone would be a miracle in itself. Brooklyn spied the bottle on the stand and quickly downed one of her painkillers along with a half a glass of cheap whiskey to chase it down. With her good arm she flung the pillows together and shifted her body into the waiting throes of goose down and cotton. The hunter closed her eyes and waited for the sweet embrace of a drunken slumber….

"What the Hell happened to you?"

Brooklyn peered upward to see Raylan standing at the foot of the bed. She had not heard him enter the room, but then again Raylan had mastered the fine art of the sneak approach. The marshal's face was flooded with concern as the extent of her injuries slowly came into light.

"Oh this?" She pointed at her shoulder then answered dismissively. "This is nothing more than a flesh wound."

"Bullshit," Raylan shook his head.

"Alright alright you got me," she flashed a lopsided grin. "Casper the friendly ghost used me as a discus."

"That's not funny Brooklyn," Raylan sat down beside her.

"Sorry," she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's been a rough night."

"I can tell," the marshal slipped his hat off and carefully pulled the bag aside to get a better look at her injury. "Now tell me if this hurts."

Brooklyn hollered at the top of her lungs as Raylan looked at her shoulder. She was two seconds away from decking the marshal but knew it was the pain driving her to that point.

"I'm gonna need you to sit up," Raylan helped her upright, "and count to three."

Brooklyn nodded and started counting, "One…."

The sharp snap caught her off guard as the dislocated joint was set back into place. The hunter spouted off every curse word in every language she knew. Raylan's eyes shot wide open at her reaction. The marshal was at a loss for words and patiently waited for the hunter to calm down though he couldn't but help suppress a light chuckle.

"Son of a bitch! Why didn't you warn me?"

"Would you have been as relaxed if I did?"

"Point taken," Brooklyn sighed as the booze started to kick in. A slow heavy feeling started sinking in as the pain gradually ebbed away. "But thanks anyways."

Raylan chuckled at her as Brooklyn placed the ice pack back on her shoulder. He couldn't but help to notice the flecks of amber that blended beautifully with her soft grey hues.

_Now is not the time Raylan….._

"You know you can go on home. I'll be fine alone. Been that way for almost," she held up some fingers and giggled at her feeble attempt to count. "Ah Hell it's been over 10 years since I started going alone."

"Well you are not staying alone tonight," Raylan placed his hat on the stand. His voice didn't leave any room for argument.

"Fine," Brooklyn shrugged. She was halfway between drunk and tired and didn't have the energy to argue back. The hunter sunk against the bed and felt the room start to slowly spin. She chalked it up to Jack and the painkiller but said nothing about it.

"So did Art give you shit when you said you hurrying here?" The sly knowing grin crossed her lips.

"Need I answer that question?" Raylan sighed and continued checking her over.

"I love that man," Brooklyn laughed. Her voice was slurred but audible. "He has such infinite words of wisdom ya know?"

"All too well I'm afraid," Raylan spotted an area above her elbow. It was starting to turn purple and violet but it looked worse than what it was.

"Holy shit what happened to you?" Tim hovered in the doorway.

"Cheer cheer the gang's all here," Brooklyn waved with her good arm. "Come on in Tim!"

"Well hello Raylan," Tim held a smirk on his lips. "Playing doctor I see?"

"More like babysitting," Raylan chuckled lightly. Brooklyn groaned and flipped both men the bird.

"Are you two old maids done cackling over there? Because if you are I'm heading for the shower," Brooklyn propelled herself upright but instantly regretted her decision. It felt like a massive weight dropped down and over her body, plunging her into an tailspin that showed no mercy. She took several deep breaths, hoping it would calm her angry body down. It was trick she had picked from her guardian and most of the time it worked. But not this time.

Brooklyn knew her mind wasn't focused and it didn't take long for her to figure out what or rather who was the source of her distraction. She looked over at Raylan who was locked in conversation with Tim.

_Okay so the shower can wait for a little bit….._

She shifted on the bed, groaning at the slightest movement in her shoulder. It wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she would wind up half drunk and in pain.

"Brooklyn you have a good night now," Tim waved then turned to Raylan. "Now you take good care of her," he pointed at the hunter.

"More like keeping her from getting into any further trouble," the sly grin crossed the marshal's lips.

"I heard that!" Brooklyn shot a dirty look at the men. "And where in the Hell am I going to go! In case you two didn't notice I'm held up with this," she shortly waved her hand at her latest injury.

Tim and Raylan instantly cast the same knowing stare in her direction. After a year of being in Harlan, both men had seen how much trouble the feisty woman could get into and in how short of time.

"You're not foolin anyone Brook," Raylan shook his head. "I seem to recall one instance where you chased down a rather nasty shapeshifter while fighting bronchitis."

"Yeah and I went after a Rigaru when I had the flu, what's your point?"

"My point is," he sat on the edge of the bed, "You are needlessly putting yourself in danger."

"I could say the same about you," she argued.

"No," Raylan shook his head in disagreement, "You can let another hunter pick up the slack when you're injured or sick."

"I don't know any other hunters in this area."

"Well for now you're not going to worry about that," he slung her good arm across his shoulder and hoisted her smaller frame up with ease. "Right now, you're gonna get cleaned up and then sleep."

* * *

_Present….._

Brooklyn sat in the diner with coffee mug locked tightly between her fingers. Sam had offered to take Dean on a little field trip so she and Raylan could talk alone. Her hands lightly trembled as she forced another sip. She knew her mind had to be sharp and alert as the creature was still out there, somewhere waiting to strike.

"Brook," Raylan slid in the opposite side of the booth. His eyes were guarded, refusing to reveal what if any emotions were there.

"Raylan," she grinned and motioned the server for another cup of coffee. "You got my text."

The marshal tilted his head at her baited reaction. "Did you not think I would show up?"

"Oh no it's not that," she waved her hand and dismissed his concerns. "I know you and Dean 'bonded' on the way to the university and based the lack of blood and injuries I would say you two were civil."

"Now Brook you know I wouldn't hurt him," Raylan arched an eyebrow in her direction.

"Right," she laughed uneasily. "It's just that he's been rather….."

"Hostile?"

"Yeah you could say that," she knew he was referring to Dean. "He's been acting like he's got sand in his vagina since we got here."

Raylan nearly spat his coffee out at her choice of words. But then again Brooklyn was never one to shy away from what and how she truly felt. It was part of the reason why he loved her or rather still loved her.

"I'm sorry if he's been an ass to you," her eyes averted to the cup and saucer wrapped lightly with her fingers. "He has no right to be a dick."

"It's you he should be apologizing to," Raylan slid his hand across the table taking hers tightly in his. "If he can't see what an amazing woman you are then he's just stupid."

"You don't know how bad it hurt me to leave you," she whispered. "But I should've stayed and worked to protect Harlan better but instead I fled."

"No one's mad at ya Brook," Raylan dared and took her other hand in his. The gentle sensation of his thumbs running along hers eased the stress that had been welling. "Tim's thrilled you're back! He still wants to see if you can drink him under the table!"

"And I will too," a wicked smile flashed across her lips.

"And Rachel would love to see you as would Art."

"I intend on paying them a visit before this is over," Brooklyn nodded. The marshals had become family to her over the last few years as she didn't burn her bridges when she left Harlan.

"Good," Raylan nodded firmly.

"You wanna get out of here?" Brooklyn jerked her head to the window.

"Wherever you want," Raylan answered.

* * *

Sam had dragged Dean to the local historical society to give Brooklyn time to talk to Raylan. He watched his older brother toil irritably over old clippings and volumes of records, observing Dean's brow furrow in frustration.

"Sam what the Hell are we looking for?"

"Anything out of the ordinary," he gave the usual reply.

"This place doesn't even have internet," Dean grumbled. He was tired and hungry but most importantly wanted to get Brooklyn away from Raylan. Dean suspected Sam had strung him along on this dreary field trip as a diversion and decided he would return the favor later.

"I know why you did this," Dean narrowed his eyes as they glared from across the table of dusty books and scattered papers. Sam could feel the weight of his brother's angry stare but couldn't care less.

"I already told you," Sam casually replied.

"Stuff it Ginormo," Dean didn't want to hear it.

"Hey look at this," Sam turned serious and slid an old news clipping across the table. He pointed at a passage in the middle of the page. Dean read through the tiny paragraph then looked over at Sam.

**Sorry bout the waaaaaaay overdue update...**


End file.
